Chapter 12
TWELVE
veronica
Alone in the garage, splayed on his table like a centerpiece, I felt the weight of embarrassment settle over me like a wet blanket.
But I shouldn’t be embarrassed. The guy came at me. Again.
He asked the flirty question, he came and stood between my legs, he put his hands on me first. It was obvious he wanted me like I wanted him. We were just having fun. So what was his problem?
I propped myself up on my hands and took a minute to catch my breath and wrangle my thoughts.
Was it the kids? Was it the boss/employee thing?
Was he still worried about taking advantage of me in a vulnerable state?
He was definitely a guy with a strong moral code—he’d flat out said he thought a person’s actions were more important than their feelings.
If he believed a thing was wrong, he wouldn’t do it.
As my pulse decelerated, I had to admit there were plenty of reasons to put the brakes on before we did something we might regret.
You need this job, I reminded myself, pushing off the table and picking up my laundry basket. So maybe it’s good that one of you isn’t thinking with your hormones right now. The last thing you need is to mess this up.
As I hurried up the stairs in the drizzle, I grew even more thankful that nothing had happened.
Okay, maybe not one hundred percent thankful, I admitted, thinking about his lips on my stomach, his hand on my thigh, that bulge in his jeans.
But at least ninety percent. Possibly eighty-five. Eighty if I was being super honest.
Kicking the door shut with my foot, I headed into the bedroom area and set the laundry basket down.
But rather than put it away, I went over to the window and looked out at the house.
The windows in Austin’s bedroom were dark, and I couldn’t tell if the shade was up or down.
The kids’ bathroom light appeared to be on, although the shade was lowered.
I hoped everything was okay.
Moving backward, I flopped across the foot of the bed and stared at the ceiling, my arms above my head.
Closing my eyes, I fantasized about Austin stretching out above me, his weight pressing me into the mattress.
I wondered if he’d be rough, like he was the night he kissed me by the fire pit, all greedy tongue and grabby hands, or tender, like he’d been downstairs just now, all soft lips and gentle fingers.
I wouldn’t mind a little of both, I thought, bringing my hands to my breasts and wishing they were his. I just wanted to feel him.
I kicked off my flip flops and brought my heels onto the bed, knees apart.
Bringing one hand to my leg, I let it glide up my inner thigh just like he’d done.
But where he’d stopped, I didn’t—I placed my hand over my panties and rubbed slowly and firmly, allowing the hum to build in my lower body.
Then I slipped my fingers inside the edge of the lace—
A knock on the door made me bolt upright, heart pounding like I’d been caught touching myself. Jumping to my feet, I glanced out the window and saw that the house was completely dark. But Jesus Christ, I’d left the shade up!
If it hadn’t been raining, I’d have taken a moment to make sure my face wasn’t too flushed, but I didn’t want to leave him out there getting wet. Fanning my face, I quickly went to the door and pulled it open.
The sight of him, all dark and rugged and wet with rain, did nothing to cool me down. “Hey,” I said, my voice cracking.
“Hey.” He shoved his hands in his pockets.
“Want to come in?”
He shook his head. “That’s a bad idea.”
“Austin, you’re getting wet. Just come in. I won’t bite.”
Tentatively, he stepped across the threshold. “Okay, but leave the door open.”
I rolled my eyes, but I backed up and put some space between us. The rain thrummed on the roof above our heads. “Everything okay at the house?”
“Yes. Owen had a bad dream. Then he wanted a glass of water. But he’s fine, already back to sleep.”
“That’s good.”
“Anyway, I just came up to apologize.” His eyes lingered on my stomach.
“You don’t have to.”
He held up his hands, raising his gaze to mine. “I want to. I made the big deal about setting boundaries when I hired you, and tonight, I pushed them.”
“I wasn’t putting up a fight, in case you didn’t notice.”
Dropping his arms, he exhaled. “Maybe you should have.”
“Why? It doesn’t seem wrong to me.”
“It doesn’t?” He looked angry. “All I can think of when I see you in that outfit is untying your top—with my teeth.”
I gasped. “Really?”
“Really. And it’s fucking wrong. You work for me.”
“Okay, maybe it’s a little bit wrong, but you know what?” I tossed my hands up. “I don’t care. I spent the last year doing exactly what I was told, so I guess you’re getting me in a rebellious phase. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. I’ll do a better job of keeping my distance.”
I didn’t want him to keep his distance. I wanted him to untie my top with his teeth. “Okay. I will too.”
He nodded. “So . . . goodnight.”
“Night.”
Then he was gone, pulling the door closed behind him.
Back in the bedroom, I went over to the window and looked out to see him hustle across the driveway and enter the house.
A minute later his bedroom light came on, and I thought he’d notice the shade was still up and come over to lower it.
But he must have been distracted or something because he disappeared into the bathroom for a moment—turning on the shower?
—then came back out, grabbing his shirt at the back of his neck.
Walking toward the window, he yanked it over his head and tossed it aside.
That’s when he saw me.
My breath caught. Framed in the window, he stood there for a moment, gorgeous and bare-chested. He reached up to pull down the shade.
I reached behind my neck and untied my top.
He paused with one arm raised.
Leaving the halter ties dangling over my shoulders, I turned around and unraveled the knot at my back. Then I let the top fall to the floor. With one last look over my shoulder—he was still there watching—I walked away from the window and switched off the light.
I walked into the bathroom with a little smile on my face.
Austin stuck to his word.
I wasn’t sure if he was just following through on his promise or punishing me for the mini-strip tease routine, but the following week, he did an excellent job keeping his distance.
On Sunday, he took the kids to Moe’s for breakfast, and even though the twins invited me to come along, Austin said nothing.
I insisted they go without me and took advantage of the break in the rain with a jog down to the harbor and back.
Later, when the drizzle started up again, the kids and I made tap shoes by taping pennies and nickels in the shape of taps to the bottoms of old sneakers.
Then I taught them some basic steps on the tiled basement floor, and that evening, they invited their dad down to see their new skills.
He gamely applauded and praised their talent, examining the bottoms of their shoes and offering to get them a big piece of plywood if they wanted a better practice surface.
But he barely even looked in my direction.
The week began smoothly enough—I had the morning routine down pat, and running errands was quicker now that I knew my way around town.
I was good at remembering names and faces, so it was nice to be able to call out a personal greeting when I passed someone on the street or grabbed coffee on Main Street or checked out at a shop downtown.
On Wednesday evening, I taught a social dance class for seniors at the library, and the librarian—Noreen, whose sister Faye had been married to Austin’s Uncle Harry—said it was the most crowded the mixer had ever been. She asked if I’d come back every week during the summer, and I said yes.
Thursday night was my biggest culinary triumph yet—I managed to serve a meal that Austin finished. And then he had seconds! Granted, it’s hard to screw up tacos, but whatever. It felt like a victory.
Afterward, however, he disappeared into the garage like he had every other night, while the kids and I ate popsicles on the front porch. Then they played outside with the other neighborhood kids until it got dark, when I corralled them into the house for showers and one last snack.
At some point during the bedtime routine each night, Austin would come in and say, “Thanks, I’ll take over,” and we’d change places without directly meeting each other’s eyes.
I’d say goodnight to the kids and head back to my place above the garage, and he’d get the kids tucked in.
Sometimes I heard him come back out to the garage and work a little more, but he never invited me to have a beer with him again, and he certainly didn’t come knock on my door.
By the weekend, I was feeling kind of lonely and isolated.
Owen and Addie were great, and the seniors in dance class had been adorable, but I was sort of craving interaction with someone my age.
Friendship. Camaraderie. It has been missing from my life ever since I’d been engaged to Neil.
I’d never made girlfriends of my own in Chicago—just his sisters or the wives and girlfriends of his work or golf buddies.
And I’d had nothing in common with those women.
I couldn’t call Morgan every night—she was busy with a newborn baby. Mabel had texted me a couple times over the last couple weeks asking how things were going, but I didn’t want to burden her either. I especially didn’t want to admit that part of my problem was a strong attraction to her brother.
But all physical urges aside, I really did like it when Austin and I had talked .
. . Neil had not been a good listener. He’d pretend to listen, he’d say things like “right” and “uh huh,” but his eyes would glaze over, and he always found a way to bring the conversation around to a topic he could mansplain to me. We just never understood each other.